slow dancing in a burning room
by kawieli
Summary: "it's been eight days."  *complete*
1. it's not the calm before the storm

It's been one day. She hasn't taken a shower and comes to school with jean clad legs and a baggy grey sweatshirt (for one short moment, she allows herself the wish of the sweatshirt being his and not her dad's, then maybe she would be able to inhale his scent one last time).

She can't physically allow the thought of putting on her animal sweaters and leg warmers (the memory of him telling her he liked the way she dresses is etched into her mind).

She never looks up during English class, rolls her pencil across the desk and fights the burning sting of tears that threaten to spill at any given breath. (she has let herself cry her way to sleep for the past two nights and has been taken by surprise at how many times her heart clenches)

It takes her a good twenty minutes to walk the short three minute distance to the choir room. She looks through the window and holds her breath. She doesn't want to step foot in this room. She had thought, that maybe, just maybe, these 11 people were finally her true friends. She stifles a sob as she realizes Santana was right, everyone was only pretending to like her.

_See I thought love was black and white_

_That it was wrong or it was right_

_But you ain't leaving without a fight_

_And I think I I am just as torn inside_

It's been five days. She misses him something fierce. She is lying in bed when she notices his hat for the first time. It's a ratty old thing. She hates it when he wears it. Now, she would get on her knees to see him wear it.

The burning feeling that overwhelms her propels her out of the bed to grasp the hat. She balls the hat up into her fist, taking the steps towards the trash can, hurls into the container and stands silently with flashing eyes and a pulsing heart. Without a word, she bends to pick up faded grey hat.

She falls asleep, hat tucked under her chin, the smell and touch of him lingering in the air.

It's been eight days. Eight hellish days. She wonders if she will ever get through two hours without crying.

She's not sure how the phone ended up in her hands. Even more surprised at the fact that her fingers punched in his numbers.

"Finn-hi, it's me, I know I shouldn't be calling. I'm sor-sorry to call you. But, I was missing you and thinking back to your mom's wedding reception a few weeks ago. Remember how you only had two glasses of champagne and you ended up slipping on the front steps and you in your tipsy stupor almost pulled me down with you? I still am amazed at little amount of alcohol consumption and its strong effect on you, I mean, with your body mass index and height and all. Anyway, what I meant to say is, remember how we just sat on the steps, laughing and not being able to catch our breaths? You are my friend, Finn, my _best_ friend, and I need my best friend. Will-will you come over? Just, come over? Please?"

She swears while hitting the end button on the call. She stares at the phone in her hands, already shuffling through explanations in her head in case he calls back after hearing her pathetic ramblings.

Twenty minutes later, she's greeted with a knock on the door. He stands before her, eyes wild and nearly doubling over, trying to catch his breath.

"You came."

He stares at her, incredulously, still gasping for air.

"Of course, I came, you asked me too. You sounded terrible. I was worried."

She hangs her head. She didn't think it was possible to feel more shame than what she felt about her actions with Puck, but here she was, the shamefulness of her phone call bearing down on her.

"I know, I'm so sorry. Of course you'd come, I'm sorry for causing you to worry and run over here. I can't believe it, I'm that girl! The girl who can't stop crying and bemoaning the fact about her break-up. I'm sorry, Finn, it won't happen again, I swear."

His gaze is enough to break her down once more and the words that flow from his mouth pierce her heart.

"You can't stop crying?"

Something inside her snaps. This is it. She's done wallowing in her self-loathing pity. She's Rachel doesn't give up Berry and while, yes, she does still feel like her heart has been smashed to a million little pieces. She's picking up the pieces and she will try her damnedest to put them back together.

"I'll be fine. I promise. I won't bother you again."

She walks up the porch stairs and reaches for the doorknob, yet, is still drawn to turn around one last time (she wonders if he's still there). He's still there. Standing at the bottom step, peering up at her. Silently, she walks down a few steps and uses the height advantage to softly touch his cheek. She kisses the spot where her fingers were. She doesn't see him blink away tears.

They both almost miss her parting words of "I'm sorry, Finn."

She does miss his parting words which are lost in the wind "You can bother me again."

_You'll never be what is in your heart_

_Weep Little Lion Man,_

_You're not as brave you were at the start_

It's been twelve days. She has made it four days without shedding a tear. Victory. She even manages a smile at practice when Artie starts rapping and pretending to be MC Hammer and starts inching his wheelchair towards her seductively while everyone else laughs and joins Artie in his rendition of "Can't Touch This". For a whole glorious three minutes, she feels relief and even a glimmer of hope.

The song dies away and he walks in. She has seen him every day since and every time, she swears her heart crumbles a bit, but in spite of it all, she presses on and looks at him, even attempts a soft smile. He looks back and all she sees is a pool of chocolate brown, rimmed in red.

_Take all the courage you have left_

_Wasted on fixing all the problems_

_That you made in your own head_

It's been twenty-three days. She's slowly but surely finding a routine. She's back on her work-out schedule, even adding a spinning class that provides a major endorphin high. She's back to wearing to wearing her animal sweaters and loafers (the leg warmers will take some more time, but she's getting there).

As she walks the short two blocks back to her house, still perspiring from the vigorous work-out, she reaches into her sequined bag (retail therapy was so much more healing than Ms. Pillsbury) and gropes around for her keys.

"Haven't your dads taught you that you always have your keys out and ready? You never know you may be lurking around."

She nearly wets herself right then and there and her slight scream causes him to stand quickly and apologize for almost giving her a heart attack.

"No, but they did teach me to carry around mace and a rape whistle."

She passes by him and focuses her eyes ahead, walking up her steps and unlocking and opening the front door. She stops in the doorway and drops her bags to the ground with a loud thud. She always was dramatic.

She turns around, ready for a full-fledged speech, complete with hands on her hips and several instances of hair flipping.

He gives her no chance to speak a word. He's pulling her towards him, barely hearing his mumble of a sentence.

"I needed to bother you."

His last word falls on her lips and in one swift motion, he pushes their bodies inside and gives the door a resounding kick closed.

She's hanging on for dear life, her arms thrown around his neck. He's bruising her lips and the fire within her threatens to swallow her whole.

Somehow, they back into the carpeted stairs, limbs and hearts tangled. Her breath hitches as he pulls away and buries his head in her shoulder, she's gasping for air and trying to wrap her cloudy mind about what was actually taking place.

What leaves her completely breathless is the wetness seeping into the shoulder of her t-shirt.

She made Finn Hudson cry? Seriously? How many times has he made _her _cry? She untangles her hand, ready to push it against his chest, removing his head from his home on valley between her neck and shoulder. He can't just come into her house and kiss her like this.

Chocolate, red-rimmed eyes. His bottom lip barely trembling. That was it. She was done.

She pulls him back to her fiercely. She was done living without him.

It's been twenty-four days.

Her t-shirt and yoga pants are hanging on the railing, his jeans and belt littered across the hallway.

He watches her sleep, mesmerized by the early morning sunlight streaming through and leaving bronzed patterns across her cheeks, eyes and hair. He trails a finger starting at her lips and ending at the dip between her breasts. She stirs and opens one eye. Seeing and remembering all at once, she opens both eyes and stares back at him, her look questioning.

They both don't say a word.

_But it was not your fault but mine_

_And it was your heart on the line_

_I really fucked it up this time_

_Didn't I, my dear?_

_Didn't I, my..._

_A/N:_

_I own nothing. Songs are "Where I Stood" by Missy Higgins and "Little Lion Man" by Mumford and Sons. Review as you see fit!_


	2. nobody's gonna come and save you

It's been one day. He's flat on his back, sweat pouring off his body, forehead buried in concentration as he lifts the weights up and off his chest. He lifts up and down till he can't remember how many sets he does. Sam strolls in and makes a comment about how he's straining his muscles and he better be careful or he's going to feel the burn tomorrow.

He'd rather feel the burn of his muscle than the fiery burning that raged within his chest.

_A hundred days have made me older_

_Since the last time I saw your pretty face_

_A thousand lies have made me colder_

_And I don't think I can look at this the same_

_But all the miles that separate_

_Disappear now when I'm dreaming of your face_

It's been five days. It's family dinner night. The four of them are sitting around the dining room table and he barely touches his plate. His mom and Burt exchange concerned glances, but Kurt is the one to speak up.

"If you don't eat your vegetables, you're in danger of shrinking, Finn."

Kurt's sad smile fades as he watches the sullen non-reaction. He forces two, three, four bites down and scoots back his chair while asking to be excused.

"You have somewhere to be, sweetie?"

The simple words that utter from Carole's mouth are immediately wished that they had never been spoken. Too late.

The crestfallen look that befalls her son's face is one that twists her mother's heart in two.

"I have nowhere to be, mom."

_There is melancholy in the wind and sorrow in the grass._

_-Charles Kurait-_

It's been eight days. He's had a crappy day of more than one teacher lecturing him about his lack of motivation, failure to turn in homework and in turn, his slipping grades. Screw high school.

He lay on his bed, overwhelmed with the callous way he was looking at his life. Rachel would beat him up if she heard him.

His ringtone jolts him from his melonchaloy thoughts. He rolls to one side and ends up falling off. Damn twin bed. He decides then and there to look at the catalogs his mom left out for a new "man" bed. The ring ended and he sighed annoyingly as he flipped it open one ring too late.

""Finn-hi, it's me, I know I shouldn't be calling. I'm sor-sorry to call you. But, I was missing you and thinking back to your mom's wedding reception a few weeks ago. Remember how you only had two glasses of champagne and you ended up slipping on the front steps and you in your tipsy stupor almost pulled me down with you? I still am amazed at little amount of alcohol consumption and its strong effect on you, I mean, with your body mass index and height and all. Anyway, what I meant to say is, remember how we just sat on the steps, laughing and not being able to catch our breaths? You are my friend, Finn, my _best_ friend, and I need my best friend. Will-will you come over? Just, come over? Please?"

He remembered that night. The wedding aisle dancing, his mom and Burt's vows, the sincere toasts, hugging Kurt. Most vivid, however, was the memory of him and Rachel sitting on those steps, knees touching and hands tangled.

She had shivered and thanked him when he shrugged off his jacket to place it around her shoulders. He kissed her forehead and silently thanked her for giving him his heart back.

After listening to the message, he wondered the outcome if he'd picked up. With the same thought, he reached for his keys.

Twenty minutes later, he's standing at her door, his breathing irregular as he hopes and prays she's not crying (god, he hates it when she cries.).

She opens the door and he stares. She wears a look of surprise, love and relief on her face. She greets him with an incredulous question, "You came."

He continues his wild-eyed stare, "Of course, I came, you asked me to, I was worried". Just by looking at her eyes, he saw the hurt. He wanted to fix her hurting.

He barely hears her as she apologizes for calling him, something about how she's not _that girl_, she's torn-up about the break-up, she can't stop crying. Wait.

"You can't stop crying?". If there was ever a moment where he could pinpoint his heart being ripped in two, it was now.

Something changed in her eyes. There were no tears like he expected. Just a promise of her being fine (he's not fine) and that she won't bother him again (he actually wouldn't mind being bothered again).

He watches silently as she turns and makes her way up the steps. Pausing, she stops and turns back towards him, her body inches from his. Her tiny hand makes contact with his face, his eyes slipping closed for half a second. Her whisper etched on his heart.

"I'm sorry, Finn."

The door is closed and she is gone before he chokes out his last words.

"You can bother me again."

He walks slowly back home, hoping the ache inside will become a little more dull. It doesn't.

_Everything i know, and anywhere I go_

_It gets hard but it won't take away my love_

_And the last one falls_

_When it's all said and done_

_It gets hard but it won't take away my love_

It's been twelve days. He feels halfway to normal today. He's managed to score a B on his Earth Science test and he's scheduled his classes for next semester. He feels productive and walks with a sense of accomplishment.

Reaching for his math textbook, his clumsy long arms knocks another book to the ground. He rolls his eyes as he stoops to retrieve it, his breath catching as he notices the picture sticking halfway out of the textbook. The carefree and mile wide smiles of himself and Rachel threaten to haunt his thoughts and weaken his resolve.

He swipes his shirt across his eyes before he walks into the choir room, he sees her dancing with Artie and everyone else. He hears her laughter and it strikes his heart with a damaging blow. He wonders if she knows he's been crying (seriously, when did he become such a _girl_?). By her next look towards him, he knows she knows.

_The miles just keep on rollin'_

_As the people leave their way to say hello_

_I've heard this life is overrated _

_But I hope it gets better as we go_

It's been twenty-three days. He's sitting in his dad's old chair. He had convinced his mom to let him squeeze the ratty old chair into his new bedroom. He remembered his mom and her sad smile, asking him if he was sure he wanted it. His response was laced with sentimental emotion and Carole's heart twisted for the second time in the course of two weeks.

"I've lost too much, mom, I can't take another loss."

He knows he's wallowing. He's sitting in his dad's chair with her picture in his hands. He leans his head back with his eyes closed and allows the memories to wash over him.

"_Finn"_

He quickly opens his eyes, disoriented from his trip down memory lane and the figure standing in front of him was fuzzy and unclear. His heart leapt at the thought that she had come back to him. Finally, maybe it wasn't a figment of his many dreams.

He groans and his heart plummets as he realizes his mom is standing before him, a basket of clothes situated on her hip and a stubborn but soft expression across her face.

"Sweetheart, what are you doing?"

He closes his eyes again and mumbles,

"Nothing."

Carole drops the basket of clothes with soft thud on his bed as she sighs.

"That's the problem, Finn. You need to get off your ass."

At his mother's swearing, Finn's eyes flew back open. His mom _never _swore unless she meant business.

"You either need to move on, Finn, or do something to fix what's broken. It's up to you, but you are doing yourself no good with this melancholy attitude. You are not acting like the man that I know you are."

His mom left his room, yet her words remained. She was right. He was going to fix what was broken. With his final thought, he grabbed his keys.

_He kept her picture on his wall_

_Went half-crazy now and then_

_He still loved her through it all_

_Hoping she'd come back again_

...

He sits on her steps, his thoughts and breathing anxious. His smile as he spotted her walking up the driveway, head down while searching for her keys in her over-sized bag.

"Didn't your dads ever teach you to have your keys out and ready? You never know who might be lurking."

His attempt at humor was lost as her startled yelp caused him to stand up as fast as he could, his mouth opening to apologize but her hardened voice cut him off.

"No, but they did teach to carry around mace and a rape whistle."

She shuffles past him, refusing to meet his eyes and her familiar smell threatens to intoxicate him. She doesn't even turn around until she's made her way to the door and dropping her bag inside the doorway. _He'd forgotten how dramatic she was and his heart twisted._ He knows she'll have a speech ready, most likely with lyrics from a song, but as she turns towards him, he wastes no time in tangling his body with hers. _He nearly cries at her touch. _His words are merely a whisper against her lips.

"I needed to bother you,"

With his body reacting on its own power, he is done with useless words. And before he knows it, they're inside, door slammed shut and bodies sprawled out on the stairs. He's pouring out his apology with his lips and hopes with every ounce of his being that her response to his mouth is towards the road to forgiveness.

He pulls away, not by choice, but by need to take in some air. He hears her breathing change and his heart catches in his throat. Overcome, he pulls her even closer and moves his face to the crook of her neck and allows the tears to fall.

He feels her stiffen slightly and she untangles herself from him, he grabs her tiny hands. He absolutely cannot stand _not _touching her. Their eyes finally meet and he's lost in the mesmerizing stare of Rachel Berry. She tilts her head as if she's about to say something. She captures his lips with her own instead.

With a force that only Rachel Berry could maintain, she's guiding them up the stairs and he's becoming undone by her fierce and wild kisses. He's so done. He's done living without her.

_I'm here without you, baby_

_But you're still on my lonely mind_

_I think about you, baby_

_And I dream about you all the time_

_I'm here without you, baby_

_But you're still with me in my dreams_

_And tonight girl, it's only you and me_

It's been twenty-four days.

He can't help but stare at her sleeping form, the morning sunlight dancing across her body. He traces the pattern on her olive-skinned shoulder. (he's really spelling out 'i am yours')

He physically can't take his hands off her. He slowly begins to trail a finger across her lips, around her chin, down her neck and dances his finger to a stop between the valley of her breasts.

He watches as she wakes, one dazed eye opening first and then the other as he watches the realization blush her face and then is replaced by a soft, but questioning gaze. He wishes he could just kiss it all away. But he knows he can't.

They both don't say a word.

_Another ditch in the road_

_Keep moving_

_Another stop sign_

_You keep moving on_

_And the years go by so fast_

_Silent fortress built to last_

_Wonder how I ever made it_

_A/N: So, that was Mr. Hudson's point of view. Thanks for all the kind reviews, it makes writing that much more fun! I am planning one more installment, how F and R deal with their "reconciliation". :) Songs are "He Stopped Loving Her Today by George Jones, "Two Beds and a Coffee Machine" by Savage Garden and "Here Without You" by Three Doors Down._


	3. this love we've been working on

_This one's for the lonely_

_The ones that seek and find_

_Only to be let down_

_Time after time_

It's only been a couple of hours. Merely hours since their _reunion._ He's cupping her trembling chin and brushing his thumb against her lips as her eyes slip closed. He can't miss the one lonely tear that escapes the corner of her eye.

"Don't cry."

His two word murmur resounds like a sweet melody in her ear and his tender touch of wiping her tears away leaves her literally breathless. She somehow manages a simple sentence, but it's one that leaves his heart reeling.

"I'm not sure of what else to do."

He wonders which will have the strength to ask the lingering question. Where do they go from here?

He wants to tell her he loves her, with every lumbering bone in his body, he loves her. He wants to convince her that they can overcome anything because of what _they have._

She doesn't give him the chance.

"I think you should go."

Wait, _what? _ He opens his mouth and while he knows he has never been good with the whole emotion and feelings game, he knows what he wants.

"I don't want to go. I never want go anywhere _without you._ I want _you._"

So much for her one tear. He never thought you could actually see a person's heart breaking, but he sees it happening in front of him, in her eyes.

"We made a rash decision, we weren't thinking straight, sleeping together isn't going to fix what's broken."

He's stunned at her words. His mom's words are echoing in his head, except this time, they aren't comforting him, they're haunting him. Still, he told her once he won't give up that easy, so he reminds her of that promise.

He watches as she remembers and his heart skips.

"I've worked through a lot of things over these past 24 days, Finn, and I'm still muddling through some. And while it seems that you have come to the realization that you can't live without me, the thing is, I've already started _living _without you."

His heart plummets faster than a ray of light. His eyes start itching and he moves his hand to calm the annoyance and he's struck when his hand meets wetness. He's _crying?_

And what strikes him more is the fact that he is holding in sobs and the urge to gather his girl in his arms and tell her she's wrong and kiss her hairline, her cheeks, her nose, her lips. He wants to prove to her that _she's wrong._

Yet, he can't seem to get one word out. It would only be a cry, anyway.

She moves to place a hand on his cheek, attempting to push his face towards her, he only looks down, unable to look at her.

"Time, Finn, can you just give me some time?"

He wants to run out, slam the door in her face, it would match what she is doing to his heart. But, he can't even manage to do that. So, he just covers his hand over hers that still lingers on his cheek and peels her trembling hand off his face and sets it on the bed ever so gently.

He keeps her tiny hand clenched in his as he finally puts his thoughts into words.

"The thing is, Rach, twenty-four days was _too_ much time for me."

He doesn't see her curl into a ball in a wave of sobs. He doesn't turn around as he walks out the door. They both miss the tears on the other's face.

_This one's for the torn down_

_The experts at the fall_

_Come on, friends, get up now_

_You're not alone at all_

She's buried beneath her blankets and nearly laughs at her misery. She honestly didn't think it possible to feel any worse than she did the moment he walked away from her the first time.

It was possible. Watching him walk away from her for the _second damn time_, literally brought her to her knees.

She notices something white sticking out from under her desk chair. She sits up with a sudden burst of energy as she realizes what the object is. She reaches for the material and sets it in her lap, turning it over and over in her hands, grateful for the dark of the night to conceal her anguish.

She swiftly moves Finn's white t-shirt over her head and just as swiftly, erupts into another wave of tears.

He's wobbling on the ladder. Attempting to take down the annoying Christmas lights from the outside of his mom and Burt's house. He grabs a strand loose and he doesn't stop it from flying to the ground.

Kurt's yelp from below startles him and he nearly flies himself off the ladder. He growls at Kurt and yells several obscenities Kurt's way.

"Watch it, Hummel, I'm working."

Kurt rolls his eyes and brushes the dust and snow that was brought down with the lights off of his pea coat.

"Finn, this coat cost me two whole paychecks and many weird looks and remarks from Santana and Mercedes, so, I'd appreciate it if you would pay closer attention to tossing things from thirty feet above my head!"

Finn waves his hand around as to indicate his lack of concern and harshly yells back.

"Does it look that I give a shit, Kurt?"

He immediately feels a overwhelming feeling of guilt rack his body, as he doesn't even need to turn around to see the look of surprise, yet small shred of hurt flicket across Kurt's eyes. He also doesn't need to turn around to see Kurt's over-dramatic use of an eye roll.. He heaves a heavy sigh and climbs off the ladder and turns to face Kurt.

"Sorry, man, I don't know what's gotten into me. That was uncalled for."

Kurt nods and a look of sympathy crosses his face.

"I know exactly what's gotten into you. You miss the tiny brunette Broadway wannabe."

Kurt's words initiate the churning and clenching of his stomach and he resists the urge to growl again at Kurt.

"Rachel has nothing to do with my mood."

Kurt laughs so hard, he wonders if he's going to start crying.

"And I love women."

He rolls his eyes as Kurt walks off, still laughing and throwing a comment over his shoulder.

"I'll tell her you've been thinking of her."

Kurt is already in his car, backing out of the driveway when Kurt's words finally sink in. Kurt would only be able to tell Rachel something if he was off to spend time with her. For the first time in his life, he's _fucking _jealous of Kurt.

_This one's for the faithless_

_The ones that are surprised_

_They are only where they are now_

_Regardless of their fight_

She's staring into her coffee cup, mesmerized by the swirls of the coffee and cream until a soft but firm hand shakes her out of her own swirly thoughts.

"Berry, you still with us?"

She looks up at Kurt who's sitting across from her and she mumbles an apology. Kurt shrugs and his next remark is one the seizes her heart.

"What is with you and Hudson all of a sudden. It's almost as if the Ghost of Christmas Past has come and swallowed your souls."

She chokes on her coffee and shoots Kurt a dirty look as Kurt looks on in awe and she wonders if his eyebrow could get any higher.

"Don't bring Finn into this."

Kurt's eyes nearly bug out of his head and he leans forward, eager to hear her spill the goings on about their screwed up relationship.

"Oh, honey, you've already brought him into this."

She sighs and takes another sip to avoid answering. Kurt's eyes bug out even farther.

"You two totally did it."

Kurt hands her a napkin as she chokes on her coffee for the second time. His smirk growing wider with each second.

"How was it? Is it true what they say about tall guys?"

She rolls her eyes and crumples up her napkin to throw at Kurt's face.

"I will not even begin to grant you that answer."

Kurt giggles as she covers her flaming face in her heads and fights the tears, she's so _sick_ of crying. Kurt finally gathers control of himself and he feels another wave of sympathy, this time for his (who would've thought), friend, Rachel.

"So, did it mean anything?"

She slowly removes her hands and stares at Kurt, surprised at his blunt words. She doesn't even think twice about her response.

"It's _Finn_, _of course _it meant something."

Kurt nods and doesn't say anything. She sits there, remembering. She remembers seeing him for the first time and being speechless for the very first time in her life. She remembers their first kiss. She remembers chasing after him. She remembers him chasing after her. She remembers the moment they finally stopped chasing each other and just _jumped_.

She remembers his simple gestures; his arm slipping casually around her, the way he tucked her into his arms, his chin atop her head. She remembers their late night talks that resulted in her having to down an extra energy and protein shake to make it through the day. She remembers not caring one bit about drinking an extra shake.

She can't stop remembering.

_This one's for believing_

_If only for it's sake_

_Come on, friends, get up now_

_Love is to be made_

He's sitting on the porch swing, a beer by his side as he watches the sun set. Just the way the sun is setting in his heart. He catches himself at his corny and dramatic thoughts and groans out loud.

"I've been hanging around Kurt way too much."

He rolls his head back and allows his heavy eyes to close.

He doesn't notice her walking up the driveway. He doesn't notice her walking towards him. He doesn't notice her wringing her hands. He doesn't notice the determined, yet with a hint of skepticism look in her eyes. He only notices when he feels the swing shift by the added weight.

He can't stop looking into those _eyes_ and it all but kills him to tear his gaze away, but he does and he gets busy with peeling off the label on his wet beer bottle.

He tries to keep his tone collected and firm, yet he stumbles over his words and he cringes as he realizes his voice is breaking.

"I don't think I can do this again, Rachel."

She starts to dip her head, but fights against it and places her hand tentatively on his knee. The warmth from her tiny hand radiates his entire body, he was surprised he'd forgotten the effect her touch had on him.

"Finn, you've changed me. You've changed me more than you'll ever know and it's for the better. I have never met someone with such a kind heart as yours and it kills me to think I've broken any piece of it. I'm sorry it's taken me this long to get over my insipid and ridiculous feelings. I'm sorry, Finn, so sorry and I know it's all my fault and I hate all the time that we lost. But, I'm done fighting. I'm done fighting what my heart has told me all along. I'm done running from you, from _us._ I can't and _do not_ want to live without you. This is _it_ for me, Finn."

He wonders if he'll ever be able to utter a sentence that doesn't sound like a five-year old was talking, but he doesn't care, as long as he has _her._

He reaches for her in one fluid motion that surprises him most of all and he tucks her into his arms, resting his chin atop her head. _He's never letting her go again._

He pulls her out of their embrace, he wants to get this right, just once in his life, he wants to get it _fucking right._

"My turn. I love you, Rachel. More than I ever thought one person could love another. And while the time apart has been torture and the fighting and the running have been exhausting, it's worth it. Because, Rach, _you're worth it._ You are _it_ for me."

She swears if she smiles any wider, she's going to end up with laugh and smile lines by the time she's twenty-five. She'll deal with it.

_And this part was for her_

_This part was for her_

_This part was for her_

_Does she remember?_

As the sun set in a small Midwestern town, two young adults sat on a simple porch swing, bound together to the point where you couldn't tell where the man began and the woman ended.

You could tell, however, that they loved each other, plain and simple. You could tell by the way they looked at each other, the way they held each other. But, mostly, you could tell by the words that slipped from their lips. Her "I love you" 's murmured into his chest and his "I love you" 's mumbling into her hair. Yes, he loved her. And yes, she loved him.

_It comes and goes in waves_

_A/N: And that would be it. I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing! Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the kind reviews. It's sometimes surprising to see that people actually like the crazy stuff I write. Lyrics are from "Comes and Goes" by Greg Laswell. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!_


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